


Normal City

by Cluegirl



Category: Multi-Fandom
Genre: Gen, None of us are in the club, and that's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 10:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4957519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cluegirl/pseuds/Cluegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When we got to Normal City, all the Freaks were camped outside...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Normal City

**Author's Note:**

> This poem was inspired by my sister, who griped to me that she felt like she was locked outside the gates of the fortress city of Normality, pounding and screaming to be let in. I don't think this response was the one she wanted, but I stick by it.

When we got to Normal City, all the freaks were camped outside  
Raising hell, and laying siege upon the walls.  
Science nerds were building trebuchet and railgun prototypes;  
Re-enactors, they were smelting cannonballs.

The SCAdians and Rennies set aside their ancient feud  
And formed up in regiments a thousand strong --  
The SCAds had better armor, but the Rennies had live steel  
And no one cared if seams were right or wrong.

The rappers, ravers, folkies, goths and slam poets took turns  
Stirring up morale, and lampooning the foe.  
Singing songs of hope and valor (and of booty and of booze  
And of sex and drugs and rock and roll and Poe.)

Liberal Arts majors had built a man of bank receipts and wire  
Like some tickertape Collossus on the road,  
And before they pushed him into place and lit the man on fire  
Alchemists were adding fireworks to his load.

We couldn't see the Sappers, but we couldn't miss the pound  
Like a heartbeat throbbing underneath our feet.  
Belly dancers and fire spinners took advantage of the sound  
And the drummers added spice to every beat.

See, the physics geeks had built themselves a Battlebot Brigade  
With the Demolition Derby Girls and Boys,  
But the Gearheads waited out the Pirates' grapeshot fusillade  
Before they'd risk a sortie with their toys.

The Harley gangs and Rocket-jocks drag raced behind the lines;  
Armored cavalry with nothing much to do,  
For the inner field was being held by Jousters and Cowboys  
Steeplechasers, Dressage Riders, and a teenage girl or two.

We were looking for our place (between the Theatre nerds and Pervs)  
When the cry went up like thunder all around;  
"The Cat Ladies have broken through! There's Tabbies o'er the wall!  
Roller Derby Girls have got the drawbridge down!"

Then up they rose all together, from the Mormons to the Queers,  
Junior Commies, Cheerleaders, and NRA's  
Socialites and atheists, transvestites, racketeers,   
Porn stars, poets, mimes, and knitters seized the day!

Nevermore to be excluded, and no longer cast aside  
Or discounted for the things that made them grand.  
Nevermore dismissed as 'others' once they'd won their way inside,  
For the hallowed halls of Normal they'd command!

But we noticed, as the glittering horde ran screaming for the wall,  
That a breach had opened up beyond the field.  
Just a tiny little tunnel for a tiny little man  
Who poked out a tiny flag, and cried "I yield!"

"Yield to whom," we went and asked him, "Are you lost or turned around?  
See, the rest have all gone running to the breach.  
Seven billion screaming weirdos, raising up a joyous sound  
As of Anarchists a-singing each to each."

"Yes, I know," replied the man, dusting clay from his lapels,  
"For the sound has plagued my nightmares since you came,  
In the silent, empty city, it peals out like angry bells  
And there's never any peace from the refrain.

"'Let me in, oh let me in! I belong inside, with you!'  
Think of millions screaming, morning, noon and night,  
Like they wish to be imprisoned in that empty, ghostly place  
And to wither in the shadow of its blight."

"But it's Normal," we protested, "where the Normal People live,  
As we freaks are always told we ought to be!"  
"It's a prison," he replied, "and the inmates are long gone,  
Leaving only ghosts and memories, and me."

"I've been working on this tunnel for a dozen years or more,  
Day and night, for I had nothing else to do,  
And no one inside to talk to, and no reason to fight,  
And the first folk I've laid eyes upon is you.

"Take the place if you must have it, every boardroom, cell and mall  
Have the lot, for I am glad to be away  
To where a man can take a breath, and speak his mind, and stand up tall.  
I believe I'll take up surfing and crochet!"

"But if you were not happy, then why keep us locked outside?  
Why make us hold the city under siege?  
You might, at least, have told us the defenders had all died,  
Then we might have all gone home and had our tea!"

"Well, I did try," he offered, "but the shouting was so loud,  
That I suspect nobody understood my plea.  
And the gates have long since rusted from the inside to the out,  
And the gaolers long ago misplaced the key."

"Still, we all are where we wanted; them within, and me out here  
And we can all claim our victory this eve."  
Which was true, or something like it, so we offered him a beer  
Then took him out to celebrate his new reprieve.

We found a sushi parlor (he'd been curious awhile,)  
Open still for all the freaks who'd learnt the score,  
And we sang karaoke, danced the Time Warp and the Tango.  
And we gave no thought to Normal any more.

And if the city's conquerors should peer outside the walls,  
And a scrap of white, tied to a stick espy,  
Let them take it for surrender, for we know the true from false;   
It's the Freak flag, and forever may it fly!

\-- Catt Kingsgrave / Cluegirl. 2011


End file.
